


Valentine's Day

by skywalkersamidala



Category: I Medici | Medici: Masters of Florence (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:06:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29435043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywalkersamidala/pseuds/skywalkersamidala
Summary: Francesco hates Valentine's Day, but for Lorenzo's sake, he's willing to attempt a grand romantic gesture.
Relationships: Lorenzo "Il Magnifico" de' Medici/Francesco de' Pazzi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Valentine's Day

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this like 2 years ago and was like "omg this is so cheesy I'm not posting this" but then I rediscovered it the other day and was like heck it, let's have some cheese!

There were few things Francesco hated more than Valentine’s Day. A whole day where couples thought they had the right to go around being sappy and PDA-obsessed with no respect for the people around them. Disgusting.

And somehow, Valentine’s Day was even worse now that he was in a relationship than it had been when he was single. Because there were few things Lorenzo loved more than Valentine’s Day. Obviously Francesco always got him flowers, he wasn’t a _monster,_ but that was nothing compared to the nonsense Lorenzo whipped out.

The first Valentine’s Day after they’d started dating, Lorenzo had come into the bank in the middle of the day to recite a love poem he’d written himself. In front of all Francesco’s coworkers. Francesco had nearly died of mortification. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure that he hadn’t genuinely dropped dead that day and that the three years of his life since then weren’t just some weird purgatory-induced hallucinations.

The second year, Lorenzo had called him in sick and shut off his alarm without telling him, intending to let him sleep late and then surprise him with breakfast in bed. Which would have been sweet if Francesco hadn’t had a very important meeting with a client that morning which Lorenzo had caused him to miss. Francesco had refused to speak to him for several days.

Last year hadn't been so bad, all things considered. All that had happened was that Francesco had gone into work and found his office full to bursting with flowers. Yes, it had taken half an hour to clear the room out enough that he could get work done, and yes, he’d been sneezing for weeks afterwards, but at least Lorenzo was learning to tone it down. Somewhat.

Even so, Francesco felt the familiar dread mounting as Valentine’s Day approached. And guilt. He knew how much Lorenzo loved grand romantic gestures, yet Francesco never tried to do anything that special for him because grand romantic gestures weren’t _his_ thing. Sure, Lorenzo always gushed over how beautiful his measly one bouquet of flowers was, but Francesco always secretly worried that he was disappointed. That one of these days he’d decide Francesco clearly didn’t love him as much as Lorenzo loved him and would break up with him.

It wasn’t true, for the record. Francesco loved Lorenzo more than he could put into words. But that was just it: he simply didn’t know how to express his feelings properly, not the way Lorenzo did.

But after mulling it over for a month, Francesco settled on a plan. It was something he’d been planning to do at some point this year anyway, so he was just moving the timeline up, which maybe didn’t count as a spontaneous romantic gesture, but Francesco was allergic to spontaneity and even moving up the timeline of something he’d already intended to do was making him feel a little queasy. In a good way, though. Mostly.

And sure, enacting this plan on Valentine’s Day, of all days, was disgustingly cliché and went against all Francesco’s natural instincts, but this wasn’t about him, this was about Lorenzo, and Lorenzo was a disgustingly cliché person who would love it. Above all, Francesco wanted to finally give him the perfect Valentine’s Day—and to finally prove that he wasn’t the worse boyfriend.

(He knew it wasn’t a competition. But that didn’t stop him from feeling like he was losing.)

The day got off to a normal start. _Weirdly_ normal, in fact. Lorenzo was tidying up his own breakfast when Francesco went into the kitchen to grab something to eat, and all he got was a mumbled “good morning” and a distracted kiss on the cheek before Lorenzo went to go shower and change for work.

Francesco watched him go, frowning slightly. Usually Lorenzo wouldn’t shut up about the fact that it was Valentine’s Day all day. Or the whole week leading up to it. Yet now Francesco realized that Lorenzo hadn’t said a word about it all week. Had he _forgotten?_ Surely that wasn’t possible.

 _Maybe he_ is _planning to break up with you,_ a paranoid voice in the back of his head whispered, but Francesco tried to ignore it. He was overreacting; Lorenzo had probably just finally figured out that Francesco hated Valentine’s Day and decided not to make a big deal out of it this year. Thank God.

Except that Francesco felt oddly disappointed when he got to work and didn’t find any sort of surprise from Lorenzo waiting. All day long, he watched his coworkers getting flowers delivered from their significant others, but there was nothing for him.

 _Well, you asked for this,_ he reminded himself sternly when he let out a mournful sigh as he saw the giant bouquet of roses Novella got from her boyfriend. _Every other year you got mad at Lorenzo when he did something nice for you, of course he’s given up trying._

“What does Lorenzo have in store this year?” Novella asked during lunch. “I’ve been looking forward to it all day, we could use some amusement around here.”

Francesco rolled his eyes. “Nothing, actually, I don’t think,” he said, trying not to sound gloomy. “We’re keeping it lowkey this year.”

“Really? I find that hard to believe.”

So did Francesco. The whole day passed with no form of public humiliation, no flowers, no chocolates, not even so much as a text from Lorenzo. At the end of the day Francesco still had some time-sensitive work he needed to finish up, so he texted Lorenzo saying he’d be home late.

 _No problem,_ Lorenzo replied. _Take your time!_

Francesco stared down at the message, hurt. Lorenzo didn’t even care that he was working late on Valentine’s Day? All right, fine, Francesco knew he was the asshole for working late on Valentine’s Day, but Lorenzo could have at least had the decency to be upset about it. Not that Francesco _wanted_ Lorenzo to be upset. But he was still upset that he wasn’t upset.

Shaking his head in annoyance at his own stupidity, Francesco buckled down to get his work done. But he was too nervous to focus properly, so it ended up taking much longer than it should’ve. Also, he took a break in the middle to panic-call Guglielmo.

“So how did it go?” Guglielmo asked when he picked up, sounding excited.

“I haven’t done it yet, I’m still at work.”

“What?! Francesco!”

“I have to get some stuff done before tomorrow! Besides, I’m sort of freaking out,” Francesco said in a rush. “What if I’m making a mistake? What if it’s a stupid idea to do it today? What if he laughs at me? What if—?”

“Okay, breathe,” Guglielmo interrupted. “First of all, he’s not going to _laugh_ at you, this is Lorenzo we’re talking about. The nicest human being on the planet, and also crazy in love with you.”

Francesco obediently took a deep breath. “That’s true,” he said. “But I don’t know, should I really do it on Valentine’s Day? That’s so cliché.”

“Again, this is Lorenzo. He loves cliché.”

“Also true…”

“Listen, it’s totally normal that you’re freaking out and second-guessing yourself. I definitely did,” Guglielmo said. “And you were there to talk sense into me and remind me that I’d been planning it for a long time and Bianca and I were both one hundred percent sure about it, so that’s what I’m going to do for you now. Don’t second-guess, trust your relationship. Lorenzo wants this just as much as you do, he’s going to be so happy.”

Francesco smiled slightly, starting to feel better. “Okay. Yeah. You’re right.”

“You’re going to be fine,” Guglielmo promised. “Now get out of that office and get home, would you?”

“Okay, okay, I’m going.”

But once Francesco had finally stepped outside the bank, he realized in utter horror that he’d forgotten to pick up flowers. He’d meant to do it during lunch, but in all his stress at his own plans and disappointment at Lorenzo’s lack thereof, it had completely slipped his mind. Cursing under his breath, he pulled out his phone to locate the nearest place that sold flowers and hurried in that direction.

When he arrived, however, he found that their stock had been wiped clean. All that remained were a few sad-looking wilted bouquets and a few equally sad-looking customers. Francesco scoured the whole shop, praying there were some nice flowers left that he’d overlooked.

And then he saw it. A bouquet of a dozen red roses in pristine condition. Francesco eagerly reached for it, but then someone else was swiping it right out from under his nose. “Hey!” he said indignantly, turning to look at the thief.

“Sorry,” she said, though she looked more triumphant than sorry. “But I saw them first.”

 _“I_ saw them first!”

“Well, I _got_ them first.”

Francesco opened his wallet and grabbed a fistful of cash, waving it at her. “I’ll give you…uh, however much money this is if you let me have those,” he said.

She did hesitate for a second, but then she shook her head. “Nope. No deal,” she said. “I really dropped the ball this year, I _need_ these for my husband.”

“I need them too!”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have waited until the last minute.”

“You’re one to talk!” Francesco spluttered, but she’d turned her back on him and gone up to the counter to pay. Sighing, he picked out the least terrible of the remaining flowers, which was still pretty terrible. But he _did_ manage to convince the cashier to give him a discount since they were such poor quality.

By the time he finally got home, he was starving. He hoped Lorenzo would want to go out for dinner (crowded as every restaurant was sure to be) because he really was not in the mood to cook. “Lorenzo,” Francesco called as he entered the apartment and shut the door behind him. “I’m home.”

Then he realized he smelled food. A moment later Lorenzo appeared, wearing an apron. “Hey,” he said, smiling. “Perfect timing, I just finished dinner.”

“You…cooked?”

“No need to sound so surprised.”

“But you hate cooking.”

“I don’t hate it, I’m just not very good. Which is why you shouldn’t get your hopes up.” Lorenzo noticed the flowers, and his smile widened. “Are those for me?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry they’re so ugly,” Francesco said shamefacedly. “It was pretty picked-over when I got there.”

“They’re not ugly,” Lorenzo insisted, taking them from him. “I love them.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I mean it. They’re beautiful because they’re from you,” Lorenzo said. “And I love you, therefore I love these flowers.”

Francesco couldn’t help but smile. “You’re such a dork.”

“A dork who loves you,” Lorenzo said, pecking him on the lips. “Now come sit down while I get a vase for these.”

Francesco followed him into the kitchen and saw that he’d turned the light off and instead put a few candles on the table, which was indeed holding several plates of food that looked delicious despite Lorenzo’s self-deprecation. “What’s all this?” Francesco asked, sitting down.

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Lorenzo said. “You didn’t think I forgot, did you?”

“Honestly, kind of.”

Lorenzo laughed and set the vase of ugly flowers on the table, then took the chair opposite Francesco. “I know how much you hate when I go overboard,” he admitted. “So this year I wanted to do something that you would actually like. Did I get it right?”

“Definitely. This is perfect,” Francesco said, his heart soaring. Lorenzo hadn’t forgotten after all. Of course he hadn’t. “Thank you, Lorenzo. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They chatted about nothing in particular as they ate. Francesco was dying of nerves, but he soon noticed that Lorenzo seemed nervous too. What did he have to be nervous about? Francesco tended to clam up when he was nervous whereas Lorenzo would chatter on even more than normal, so it made for an interesting conversation experience.

Lorenzo called him out on it once they’d finished eating. “You’re quiet,” he said. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. Great, actually.” Francesco took a deep breath. No time like the present, and he’d just been given a perfect opening. “I want to talk to you about something.”

Lorenzo looked surprised. “Oh, really? Me too.”

“Oh,” Francesco said, temporarily thrown. “Can I go first? Please?”

Maybe Lorenzo sensed that he would implode from anxiety if he didn’t, because he nodded and said, “Sure. What’s up?”

Trying to keep his hands from sweating, Francesco reached into his pocket and pulled out the little box he’d been carrying around all day, keeping it carefully hidden behind his back. Lorenzo watched him curiously as he stood up and moved to stand in front of him, and his jaw dropped when Francesco got down on one knee and brought out the box and opened it to reveal a ring.

“Shut up!” Lorenzo gasped.

Francesco laughed despite his nerves. “I haven’t said anything yet. But if you don’t want me to—”

Lorenzo was already starting to cry, but he was beaming. “No, I do! Don’t shut up! Talk, now!”

“Okay, okay.” With his free hand, Francesco took Lorenzo’s and twined their fingers together. “I’m not good at grand romantic gestures or speeches the way you are,” he said. “But I want you to know that you’re…everything to me, Lorenzo. I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” Lorenzo said practically before he’d gotten the question out. “Yes, of course, yes, Francesco, I love you!”

And rather than waiting for Francesco to get back up, he threw himself out of his chair and into his arms, hugging him tightly and planting little kisses all over his face. Francesco laughed again and held him close, relief and sheer joy coursing through him. Finally Lorenzo kissed him on the lips, and Francesco eagerly kissed him back. They were both crying and it was messy, but neither of them cared.

“Wait,” Francesco said when they’d finally collected themselves a little. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Lorenzo’s smile turned mischievous. “You’ll never believe it, actually, but…”

And Francesco watched in astonishment as Lorenzo pulled a ring out of his own pocket. “Oh my God,” he said.

“Yeah,” Lorenzo said, laughing. “Talk about being on the same wavelength.”

“So do I get a nice speech too?”

“Honestly, as soon as you got down on one knee I forgot everything I’d planned to say,” Lorenzo said sheepishly. “Don’t worry, though. You’ll have a lifetime of nice speeches about how much I love you.”

He slid the ring onto Francesco’s finger, and Francesco did the same for him. Francesco admired his own ring, smiling probably the widest he ever had in his entire life. “I can’t wait.”


End file.
